


Tell Me

by Sherlyjohn



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Smut, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Hatred, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve has a panic attack, We all need a hug, i'm emotional, just kisses, over use of italics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 16:59:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12709101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlyjohn/pseuds/Sherlyjohn
Summary: On the anniversary of Bucky falling from the train, Steve struggles to deal with his own guilt surrounding the event. Bucky lends a hand and makes sure Steve knows he's not alone.(Set after Civil War where Bucky has his memory back and is living with Steve)





	Tell Me

**Author's Note:**

> “Grief is not as heavy as guilt, but it takes more away from you.”  
> ― Veronica Roth

It happened the month after Bucky came back for good.  
  
Anniversaries are always difficult for Steve, particularly those that involve a certain love of his life falling into the abyss of ice and snow to never return.   
The day that marked his greatest failure.   
  
It didn’t matter that the anniversary was over 70 years ago, the day was as vivid in his dreams that night as it had been that snowy day on the train. The thrill of fear as Bucky slipped from his fingers was tangible in his mouth and dried his throat out. He couldn’t breathe or think or comprehend the sheer impossibly of loosing Bucky. The waves of guilt ran rapid in his chest and drowned him.   
  
There was no emptiness that had come from his mother’s death, instead there was a consuming pain that spiked his very nerves and set them ablaze. A grief beyond imagining because there was something he could have done and he _failed_.   
  
The grief was still with him when he sat bolt upright in bed. The fear was still pumping through his veins when Bucky shot up beside him, gun in his hands, eyes assessing the danger. The solider put the gun down when he saw the horror in Steve’s eyes. He stowed the gun under his pillow once more and scooted closer, placing a flesh hand on his knee. Steve was a rigid, his eyes wide and unseeing. He didn’t react to Bucky’s touch.   
  
“Steve? Stevie?” Bucky tried again. Still no response, but he began to tremble.   
  
“It’s my fault.” Steve murmured, his voice a strangled whisper, “My fault, Bucky… I’m so sorry.”   
  
His voice was earnest but he still wasn’t looking at Bucky, his eyes were fixated on the past, on Bucky’s body being swallowed whole by the haze of white. Of the failure _._  
  
 _failure  
_  
 _failure_  
  
“Failure.”  
  
“Hey, stop it, you’re not a failure. You’re not. You’re amazing. Steve? Can you hear me?”  
  
But still Steve’s ocean eyes didn’t meet Bucky’s stormy ones.   
  
“Steve? Please babe, come back to me. Please.” Bucky grabbed Steve’s arms and squeezed them gently at first and then with increasing pressure.   
  
“Buck. I’m so sorry. I failed.”   
  
Steve was seeing it again, the falling, feeling the bone chilling grief and defeat that tore sharply at his heart.    
And the only thing Steve could think, ludicrously, was that Bucky wouldn’t get a burial.   
His body would decay, alone in the ice in some ravine in Germany, so far from home and so alone. So isolated and it’s your fault.   
He abandoned his friend, wouldn’t give Bucky’s Ma a proper funeral.  
  
_Would they bury an empty coffin?  
_   
Steve felt the guilt and the pain and the fear of living in a world without Bucky suffocating him.  
  
 _Good. Then I’ll die too._  
  
“Steve, hey- you’re not gonna die. You’re in New York and your safe.” His voice floated to him from across the blinding white and freezing ravine. It was clear as though he we’re sitting next to him, whispering in his ear. But the wind still roared in his ears and the urge to follow Bucky out of that train was still strong.   
  
“You’re here with me. You’re safe.”  
  
He wasn’t safe. Bucky would never keep him safe again. He would never pull him out of the fire when he saw Steve getting too close. So Steve would burn and burn and enjoy it while the flames devoured him.   
  
He would burn for Bucky and he would burn without him.   
  
“I’m safe too.”  
  
Those words didn’t make sense. Bucky was not safe. He was dead and it was–  
 _“my fault”  
_   
“Hey, it’s not you’re fault. I’m alive.”  
  
Steve’s heart lurched at those words and his mind seemed to groan with the weight, “You’re dead.” Steve reminded the ghost lurking in his ear, “I’m the one who killed you.”  
  
“That’s a lie and you know it. You did everything you could to save me from falling. But you _got me back, Steve_.”   
  
Steve tried to shake off the voice, he flinched away from it, burrowed himself deeper into the dark corner of his memories. He didn’t need these lies in his ears, these lies that gave him hope where there needn’t be.   
  
“I’m alive. We’re both safe. The year is 2017 and you’re in Brooklyn, with me.”   
  
Steve submerged from the tumultuous river of his thoughts, taking in great gulps of air and looking around the dark room. The light from the half moon cascaded through their window, broken into pieces by the tree shadowing it.   
  
“There you are.” Came the soft voice in his ear, followed by a gentle hand on his cheek. Steve turned his gaze to Bucky, still panting and nearly lost his breath again, looking upon that face.   
  
_Had he really saved Bucky?_  
  
No. He’d doomed him to a fate worse than death. He pitched Bucky into the hands of the devil and stood idly by as he devoured him.   
  
“Hey, I’m here. We’re safe. So please, come back to me.”  
  
“I failed you.” The words tumbled from Steve’s mouth, soft and low.   
  
“No. You found me and brought me back to you. You saved me, Stevie.” Bucky countered, running a soothing hand through his sweaty hair, but Steve barely felt it. He was numb.   
  
“No. I doomed you. I let him devour you. I killed all that was you.” Steve said, a fierce fire in his voice.   
  
“You’re not even makin’ sense, hon. C’mere.” Bucky beckoned Steve forward but he withdrew to the opposite side of the bed mumbling over and over,  
“I’m worthless. I don’t deserve you. I killed you. _I’m worthless. I don’t deserve you.I killed you. I’mworthlessIdon’tdesrveyouIkilledyou_ -“  
  
His breath was jagged and his words edged in pain, cutting sharply and pulling something deep out of Bucky, something he didn’t think he could have removed.  
  
“Steve… stop this. Stop.”  
  
Steve’s chest heaved as hot tears leaked out of his eyes, shining in the moonlight. “I am a burden and I know it.”  
  
Steve felt like an albatross flying above Bucky’s head in a soaring arc, circling ever lower, for eternity. “I always have been” Steve gasped, “and it will kill you, just like it did when we were kids, just like it did in Germany, and just like it will when you-“  
  
Bucky crossed the small distance of the bed and gently lifted Steve’s chin to meet his eyes.  
  
“You are _not_ a burden. You are _not_ a failure. You spent _months_ looking for me and you _found me_. You _saved_ me in more than one way. You sacrificed your freedom for me. You gave me a chance at my old life back, here with you, you gave me my _sanity_ back, Steve Rogers. And you didn’t even bat an eye when I’d wake up with night terrors, a gun to your head. You are the single most incredible person I have ever come across and I cannot believe you stayed with an old man who’s scared of his own shadow. But I’m grateful that you did because you _save me from myself_.” Bucky’s stormy eyes were earnest, “Why can’t you see that hero that has always been inside of you?”  
  
“Because I’m inside of me. And from here it looks pretty bad.”   
  
Bucky pulled Steve into his strong arms, gently caressing his hair, all the while Steve mumbling, “I don’t deserve this kindness. I do nothing but condemn the people that I love.”  
  
“Then I’m condemned to love you for another 90 years.” Bucky responded, pulling Steve’s face to his and pressing their foreheads together.   
  
Steve sighed and Bucky continued, “I wish that I could take that pain away from you, but I know it doesn’t work like that. So whenever you start feeling like you’re a burden or condemning me or whatever it is you think you’re doing- I want you to say to me ‘tell me’ and I will tell you how much I adore you.”   
Steve cracked his first watery smile. It was aching and painful but it was a smile. It was a start.   
  
And that night they didn’t go back to sleep, but Bucky made them hot chocolate and read _Harry Potter_ aloud and Steve finally drifted off around dawn.   
They’d made it through another anniversary. And for weeks to follow, and months to follow that; they survived. Bucky would still forget where and who he was, he would still start at loud noises and didn’t know how to talk to other people. And Steve would get this far away look in his eyes and they would darken with hate and pain and he would mumble, as if ashamed, “Tell me.”  
  
And Bucky would proceed to tell Steve all the reasons he adored him until he got Steve to smile, or to nod, or to kiss him. It didn’t always work and it would  
never truly go away for either of them. But with each by the other’s side, it was easier. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and sorry for the feels dump. I was just feeling super emotional and needed to get this out. Writing fanficiton helps me cope :) 
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


End file.
